


A Late Night

by sgracestann



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gay Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Pining Keith (Voltron), klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 12:28:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13294890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sgracestann/pseuds/sgracestann
Summary: Voltron Bar AU | In which Keith has a late night working and finally expresses what he's feeling to his co-worker, Lance."Lance. The charming guitarist that played live music for the bar every night and had deep blue eyes, eyes that made Keith flush every time they looked his way. Keith known Lance for over three years now, long enough for Keith to figure out why the boy made his heart tug at every smile."





	A Late Night

    According to the clock on the beige wall, it was almost nine o’clock. The light hubbub of the bar was soon to be greatly increased; it was this time of night that _The Five Lions_ got the most business.

    As the thready flow of customers turned into the rush and gush of social interaction, Keith looked at the clock again. _9:15_. Just an hour before the rush ended. He sighed, looking around at all the drunks and polishing the glass he had in his hands. Upbeat music floated over his head, and the lyrics of Meghan Trainor’s “No” played in his ears. He hated the song but Coran, his manager, was obsessed with it.

    It was the same job, same lousy music, day after day. It was bearable enough, considering that he received good tips and the mood of the bar was usually good. Plus, it helped him pay rent on the shoebox apartment that he shared.

     Keith had also come to view the staff as a sort of family; they’d all been working together for a few years now. There was Hunk, the chef who’d won multiple awards yet hadn’t abandoned the bar for higher dreams because he admired its “rustic charm”. Allura, the owner of the bar, had inherited it from her father. It had been his pride and joy. The bar only held on financially because Pidge had worked out a perfect budgeting system, with the help of Coran, a cheery mustachioed ginger. Pidge also doubled as a musician in the bar’s live band, alongside Lance.

     Lance. The charming guitarist that played live music for the bar every night and had deep blue eyes, eyes that made Keith flush every time they looked his way. Keith had known Lance for over three years now, long enough for him to figure out why the boy made his heart tug at every smile.

    Sometimes, during the rush hour, Lance would come over to help Keith serve drinks. They easily fell into conversation about crappy customers and Lance would rant about the government whenever politicians were featured in news channels that played on the bar’s T.V. It had taken a while to foster a friendship with Lance; they’d clashed immediately when they first met.

    For some reason it was Pidge, that was coming over to the bar counter now, not Lance. She looked irritated, pushing her glasses up her nose and furrowing her brows. Keith focused on his work and pretended to see a spot on the glass as she approached the bar. “Where did the mock-tails go? They were on the menu yesterday,” she needled, frustration edging into her voice.

    Keith cleared his throat. “We had them up for a week, and no one seemed like them. Allura didn’t think it was a good investment to keep them as a product, Pidge. Don’t get salty at me,” he complained, pushing back bangs that had fallen out of his ponytail.

    “The whole point of them was to offer people a non-alcoholic drink, hence the name ‘mock-tail.’ It was a great pun and investment.”

    “That’s kinda why we have sodas.”

    Pidge scrunched her nose up in distaste. “You smell like cigarettes. Smoking can give you cancer, Keith.”

    “What did you come over here for anyway?”

    She slouched over the bar, blowing a piece of  hair out of her face. “Look, all I wanted was a mock-tail, but I guess you don’t serve them anymore.”

    “I can make you one, if you’d like,” Keith offered, mouth twitching at Pidge’s petulance.

    “Please. I need a bit of energy. Too many people have been flirting with me and Lance tonight.”

    Kieth’s smile dropped. Pidge smirked. “If you like him so much, why don’t you ask him out?”

    He turned to his glass, and started to prepare the mock-tail. “I can’t do that. It’s too-” he gestured with his hands,“ up front. Plus, he’d probably just make fun of me. You know how he reacted to me sharing our ‘bonding moment’.”

    “To be fair, he was drunk at the time. He didn’t remember anything that happened during your so called 'bonding moment'."

    “Yeah, but. . . I just-” Keith sighed, pulling an aluminum drink mixer off of a shelf. “Rejection is difficult for me. Especially after my mom. I just don’t want to ruin a good thing.”

    “You’ll never know what’ll happen unless you try.” Pidge advised. “And Lance isn’t the kind of person who would make fun of you for asking him out, Keith. I know you guys have had your differences in the past but he’s a good guy.”

    Keith shook the aluminum drink mixer and glared at her. “Don’t remind me. I’m still annoyed that he used to call me mullet.” He poured the mock-tail into a glass and handed it to her. “That’ll be $3.47.”

    “There’s no way I’m paying. You never charge Lance.” She leaned in. “I hope you can figure it out, _mullet_. Matt says you’ve been the worst roommate lately. All the pining.” With that, she spun around and went back to the small stage the bar housed, leaving Keith with an exasperated look on his face.

    The bartender spent his next few hours helping customers, and finally, at two in the morning, he decided to close. The only life left in the bar was Lance. He looked incredibly weary as he began to pack up his guitar, slowly unplugging it from the amp and settling it into its case. Since Coran had gone home, Keith figured the ‘no smoking while working’ rule didn’t apply, so he decided to light a cigarette to pass the time while he waited for Lance to finish.

    The dim lights revealed Lance rubbing his eyes as he picked up the guitar case, and wearily walked towards the door. “‘Night,” Keith called out, blowing a whiff of smoke into the room.  Suddenly, Lance froze, set down his case, and turned around. There was a sort of evangelistic fury in his eyes, as he marched his way over to the bar counter that Keith was polishing.

    “What exactly do you think you’re doing?”

    “What do you mean?” Keith asked, ears red.

    “Smoking is terrible for you.”

    “Why are you so opposed to it? It’s just a cigarette.”

    “Because I have to sit in this lousy bar all day,” he ranted, blue eyes gleaming, “While a bunch of drunks breathe their booze breath into my face. I’m sick of the smell of their smoke stained coughs. Can’t I catch a break?”

    “Sounds like you’ve basically memorized that argument. And it isn’t exactly your choice whether I smoke or not,” Keith argued, as Lance leaned his elbows on the counter. Lance only glared at him. "Plus, I've been smoking since before I met you. Don't tell me you just now noticed," Keith continued.

    “I actually thought you were attractive before I reali-“ Lance said, cutting himself off. “Oh.”

    “Oh really? So what you're saying is that you thought I was hot the minute you met me?” Keith asked, trying to keep up his ‘cool’ act. He ultimately failed and turned a cherry red color. Thankfully, Lance did too.

    Trying to redeem himself, Lance attempted a smirk. “Yeah, I guess.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry, I’ve got to get going. See you tomorrow?”

    “Don’t go yet,” Keith murmured.  

    Lance’s eyes widened as Keith leaned in to kiss him, his heart leaping out of his chest. However, their lips never met, and Keith felt his stomach sink. Exactly what he had expected. Rejection.

    Suddenly, Keith heard Lance coughing, and looked up, concerned. When Lance managed to catch his breath, he spat out what little he could in a raspy voice.

    “It’s your stupid dragon breath. Maybe if you stop smoking, I’ll kiss you.”

    “How can my second-hand smoke make your lungs spaz but you can sit in a bar of smokers all day and not cough once?” Keith inquired, rolling his eyes. "Drama queen."

    “I haven’t tried kissing a smoker until now. Dude, when did you last brush your teeth?”

    “Are you dissing me now?”

    “Do I look like I have the energy to be insulting people?”

    “No, you really don’t. Your eyes are really red.”

    “So now you’re insulting me? I see how it is,” Lance laughed. “Anyways, I’ve really got to go. G’night.”

    “Goodnight.”

    Lance picked up his case, and grabbed the door handle, a small bell jingling as it shifted. A small smile alit Keith’s face as he set down the washcloth he was holding.

    “Lance, wait up!” he blurted. “Let me walk you to your car.”

    “Joke’s on you,” Lance quipped. “I take the bus.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this! It's a oneshot, so I won't be posting more to the story (mainly because I'm happy with how this ended), but I do plan on writing other AU's in the future.
> 
> You can find my Tumblr [here](https://paladinlaith.tumblr.com) if you're interested :)


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